three of the bad ones, gave back Richard one of the latter, and received the vial instead of it: the vial fell from his pocket with its excessive weight, and the imp lay at the bottom in deep dudgeon, miserably doubled together neck and heels. Upon this the buyer raised another shout of laughter, and exclaimed: "All this can afford you no help, Satan; gold, gold here, as much as my black courser can carry beside myself." And instantly the monstrous beast groaned beneath a heavy burden of gold. Still he received his master also, and then, like a fly that goes up the wall toward the ceiling, he went directly up the perpendicular rock, but at the same time with motions and distortions so horrible, that Richard could not help fleeing swiftly from the spot, and rushing back into the cavern, that he might see nothing more of him.

As soon as he had come out again, on the eastern side of the mountain, and run on a great distance from the abyss, his whole soul was filled with the rapturous feeling of his deliverance. He felt in his heart, that he had made expiation for the grievous offences, which he had committed since leaving his home, and that henceforward no vialfiend could any more embitter his being. He threw himself for joy among the high grass, played caressingly with the flowers, and kissed his hand to the sun. His heart, relieved from its paroxysm of terrour, was again serene and lively within him, but, at the same time, he neither cherished nor discovered aught of his former shameless levity and proneness to evil. Although he could now boast, and with some justice, that he had outwitted the devil himself, this was a feat on which he was far from priding himself. Yes, he was a true penitent: he directed the whole energy of his renovated powers to the grand purpose of existence, how he should henceforth pass his life in the world as a pious, respectable, and cheerful man. He succeeded so well in effecting this purpose, that, after some years of laborious exertion, he was able to return home to his dear Germany an opulent merchant, where he married a wife, and in his blessed old age often related to his grandchildren and great-grandchildren the story of his accursed vial-genie, as a warning full of instruction.

THE COLLIER-FAMILY;

OR,

RED-MANTLE AND THE MERCHANT.

CHAPTER I.

A MERCHANT, A COLLIER, AND A LITTLE OLD MAN.

BERTHOLD was a German merchant, who is said to have once met with the following remarkable adventure; an adventure, which, even if not warranted in all its minute circumstances to be fact, still for various reasons well deserves to be related.

He had become bewildered, one evening, in an extensive mountain forest of our fatherland; and as he ventured, at that time, to run many risques for the rapid increase of his fortune, he carried behind him on his horse a considerable amount of property in jewels, bills of exchange, and ready money; and therefore, on the approach of night, he began to be fearful of travelling through a dusky valley, alone and on an unknown track. He saw that he had wandered away into a narrow and unfrequented pass; for the wild animals there were not in the least afraid of him, and owls hooted and screeched so close above him, that he often dodged his head, before he thought of it, to avoid their fearless flight and the hateful flapping of their wings.

After proceeding some time in this defile, he at length caught a glimpse of a man, who was passing with sturdy step along the footpath before him, and who, on his making such inquiries as were natural in his situation, told the merchant he was a collier, and that he dwelt there with

his family in the forest. The traveller immediately requested a lodging for the night and direction for his journey on the morrow; and so cordial was the man in complying with his wishes, that all mistrust vanished, and they reached the little cottage extremely well pleased with each other. The mistress of the family came out of the door with a lamp, and behind her appeared the good-humoured, downright honest faces of the children, a crowd of boys and girls; and the rays of the light that fell upon the countenance of the host, discovered such confiding features, such genuine traits of the old-German stamp, as, thank heaven, we are still allowed to meet with every where among our people.

They entered the bright, warm room together, and seated themselves round the common hearth, where the traveller felt as little anxiety on account of the rich merchandise he carried with him, as if he had come home to his father and mother, his brothers and sisters. He merely unbuckled his baggage from his horse, and thus willingly intrusted him to the care of a son of the collier. He set away his burden in the nearest convenient corner of the room; and though he placed his weapons close behind him, it was more owing to the commendable old custom of travellers, than to his fearing the possibility of having occasion to make use of such things there.

They now entertained one another with talk on various subjects; the merchant gave some account of his journeys, and the collier, in a ready but modest manner, spoke of the forest, and his family that lived there. The collier sent one of his boys to draw a pitcher of his sparkling perry; and as they passed from talking to singing, from stories to songs, they tasted its flavour with better and better relish. The collier's children were just striking up a merry roundelay, when a strange knocking was heard at the door. The person who stood without, tapped the pannel with the lowest touch possible; but the faint sound was notwithstanding distinctly heard through the room, and was audible even through the clear jubilee-song of the young voices. The children stopped singing, and made a pause in their merriment, while the master of the house cried with a tone of cordial welcome: "Come in, come in, father, in the name of God!"

Upon this, a little old man of gentle manners came softly stealing in at the door, and greeted them all very courteously, except that he eyed the stranger with something of surprise. He then went up to the round table, and took the lowest place, which appeared to have been left for him unoccupied. Berthold in his turn could not help being surprised at him. For the garments he wore, seemed to be of the fashion of very ancient times; yet they were neither faded nor torn, but appeared perfectly fresh. As I have already said, he was exceedingly small, but of an agreeable countenance, which was touched at the same time with an air of deep melancholy. The family viewed him with great compassion, but quite as an old acquaintance. Berthold would fain have asked, whether he might not be the grandfather of the family, and whether he were not suffering from some disease, that made him look so wan and wobegone; but as often as he would have opened his mouth to speak, the old man fixed his eye upon him with a gaze half timid and half displeased, which looked so very peculiar, that Berthold thought it best to keep a profound silence.

At last the old man folded his hands, as if preparing for the act of devotion, looked toward the master of the house, and spoke in a very hoarse voice: "Now pray, if you have nothing to prevent you; it is the hour of prayer.' - The collier immediately began that fine old hymn,

'Now all the woods are sleeping,'

in which the children and their mother united their voices; and the weird-looking old man too joined in, and in truth with a voice of such power, that it seemed to make the cottage tremble, and any person, not accustomed to it, would have been astonished at its force. Such was the surprise of Berthold, that at first he found it impossible to fall in with the music. At this the little old man appeared to be displeased and alarmed; he darted suspicious glances at Berthold, and the collier, by making earnest signs, tried to encourage him to join them in their singing. At last he did join them, and they all finished the hymn in a happy devotional spirit; and after several more prayers and hymns, the little old man went out at the door, bowing and humble as he had come in. But the moment the latch had

caught, he burst the door open again, threw a look of fearful wildness upon Berthold, and then slammed it to with violence.

"That is altogether different from his usual behaviour,” cried the collier in astonishment, and then turned to his guest with some words of excuse. Berthold imagined, that the old gentleman was probably somewhat touched in his mind.

"That cannot be denied," answered the collier, "but he is harmless, and never does injury to any one. At any rate, I have not for a long while seen in him the least appearance of evil.-The only little chamber, however, that I can offer you," he continued, "has a door that does not shut very tight, and the old man often comes into it. But don't let that trouble you; only be careful and not disturb him, and he will go out again of his own accord. Besides, I think it likely you are too tired to be easily awoke by his movements; for he glides in and out, as you may have already observed this evening, with extraordinary lightness."

Berthold assented with a smile on his lips, but his heart was far from being as tranquil as before, although without his exactly knowing the reason why; and as his host lighted him up the narrow stairs, he pressed his portmanteau close to his side, and kept his eye, though unperceived, upon his pistols and hanger.

They entered the small chamber above, through which the wind was rushing; and the collier, after he had hung up a lamp so carefully, as to afford his guest light without danger of fire, and after wishing him the divine blessing on his night's rest, soon left him alone.